


Claimed

by glacis



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snippet - Blair's class is distracted...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claimed

Claimed (1997)

You could have heard a pin drop. Normally he would encourage discussion, and it would flow like water. But for some reason, today, no one was saying a word. It was intensely frustrating, almost annoying him into shrieking, "What is WRONG with you people? Am I SO boring that you can't even bring yourself to ask a QUESTION?" Tired, strung out from an incredible round of sex that had kept him up half the night, winging his lecture and hoping some of it made sense, Blair just was NOT in the mood for comatose students. He was too close to that state himself. Since he'd written the class outline on the board first thing at the beginning of class they'd been like this, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could take it.

Finally, the Gods of Fate smiled on him, and the period from hell ended. Gathering up his notes, stuffing them haphazardly into his backpack, he waited for the crowd to disperse. Some of them did.

Most of them didn't.

They were still sitting there, staring at him.

It had finally happened. He was living in an episode of the twilight zone.

At the end of his rope, he glanced wildly around the room at the thirty eight women and nineteen men staring raptly at him. "What?! WHAT??!"

Fifty seven pairs of eyes immediately zeroed in on his groin. He looked. Nope, the fly was up. With an inarticulate growl, he whirled around and started to stomp out the door. A mass sigh with a definite underlying moan in it came from behind him, stopping him in his tracks. Slowly, unsure of what he would find, but needing to know the reason for his class' distraction, he twisted around and peered as best he could down his back.

Oh. No.

He'd been in a hurry that morning, and running late, right on Ellison's heels out the door, not even time for a bagel ... so he'd gone commando. Only he'd picked up the wrong jeans in his rush.

The old ones.

With the rip in the seat.

Through which one pale buttock gleamed clearly.

And across it ... five perfect fingertip-shaped bruises.

He might as well have worn a sign over his ass -- "Taken and claimed."

Ripping his flannel shirt off and tying it around his hips so fast all onlookers could see was a blur of motion, he shrugged his backpack into place and took off for the parking lot at a trot. Fuck office hours. He was gonna go cover up his assets. Maybe with a side trip to the precinct ... to show off his bruises ...

Behind him, the sigh from fifty seven throats turned wistful. It had been good while it lasted.

_end_


End file.
